


A matter of fact

by gigiree



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Umm oh gosh this is such a long time in coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigiree/pseuds/gigiree
Summary: God?! So The Space Between is a wonderful, gorgeous, melancholy work of art. And I loved it so much and this is entirely speculation based on the beautiful world TreacherousThoughts has built.Thank you so much for your hard work. I hope I didn't stray too far from your characterization of G? And Ive tried to leave things a little vague, seeing as the story still has to fully unfold. But I hope you like this small gift fic.I hope I wasn't too presumptious.





	A matter of fact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TreacherousThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacherousThoughts/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Space Between](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419693) by [TreacherousThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacherousThoughts/pseuds/TreacherousThoughts). 



He'd always loved the stars. He'd always choose the books about them above all else. He'd always imagined what they'd be like.

Sometimes he'd stare at those effervescent blue crystals, stretching his hands towards the gaping cavern, watching them glimmer through the gaps in his bones.

Eventually he had them all memorized. He could draw them at a whim. Still, there was a certain frustration that ate away at him whenever Papyrus could look at those same crystals and find different pictures every time.

He couldn't for the life of him. They'd remained stagnant, pretty but meaningless.

He'd once heard that Souls were once stars. He used to look in the mirror, narrow his eyes until his bright Soul flared into a blurry starlike thing. He could almost see it then. A real star.

When he got tired of the stones, he’d lay among the echo flowers. He'd whisper jokes to them. They'd repeat them back with the same self deprecating humor. He'd sometimes listen to the unheard wishes monsters would make on these flowers. It seemed a little pointless at the time.He used to hear that monsters would make wishes on stars...a lot of them still swore by the heavens, by the stars, by the sun...it's a melancholy thing.

He missed something he'd never seen. It was an aching, misshapen want that left him feeling hollow.

He'd met someone bright enough one time, someone whose Soul answered his, who pulled him closer with a gravity so equal to his own, they'd been inseparable.

Then that light had been snuffed. He was much more than hollow. He was broken. It was the one time he'd tried to make a wish on a stillborn star...but it never came true.

The distance between him and the stars seemed farther than ever before. Farther than the miles of mountain above them.  
\----

Sometimes G still looks in the mirror. His Soul is a dull, misshapen thing. Even when he squints, it looks nothing like a star.

He can't bare to look at it for too long. It's both his and not. He's a patchwork being easily comparable to a dead star.

He threads his fingers through Papyrus’s limp hand. His eyes burn when he holds up Paps’ hand in his and the warmth that used to be so easy to find is missing. There's only a weak fluttering running just beneath the ivory of his brother’s bone.

The window is open. G can make out a few stars in the night sky. He can't see much close to the city, but they're still different from the stars he saw yesterday. And the day before that.

He loves them. They're closer than before, he can stretch out his hand if her wants to try and catch them...but the holes in his hands destroy that illusion.

He wonders what kind of pictures Paps would see. He sincerely hopes there will be a day where Paps beats him at making up constellations again.  
\----

He'd thought the closest he'd ever get to a real star was the telescope he'd managed to use at the university.

But then there you are.

There's no one but you and him and AD.

You're at the bus stop, dark hair and bright eyes illuminated in a pool of golden lamplight. You accept his ridiculous puns with alacrity, your smile is sweet and nervous. You welcome AD’s affections with good humor.

You are familiar. You are not. He feels a vague thrumming under his bones, a heaviness that feels like gravity magic that pulls him into your little orbit.

Your name is Siri.

He speaks without thinking, the warmth of you drawing out from him an answer he'd never expected. A name that hardly reflected who he felt he was.

A name that was oddly fitting for himself now.

Sans…

Without. Missing.

You don't seem to notice that this isn't right. He doesn't either for a moment...you're just too wonderful a novelty to let him remember what he's missing.

And then he remembers.

And suddenly you're too bright to look at. But he will be drawn again by that strange gravity of yours.  
\---

Figures your name would be Sirius.

Figures you'd love the stars so much.

It figures that you'd lost a brother and he's losing a brother.

He doesn't know himself. You know yourself too well.

Perhaps...if things had been different...if has Soul still looked like yours...still looked like a star, he would have embraced you. He would have pulled you closer and whispered those stupid words against the delicate shell of your ear.

He would have...he could have...but he can't.

Because Soulmates are supposed to have paths that cross, Souls that intersect.

But his life and yours run parallel, always by each other's side. Never meant to touch. The space between you two will always be there.

He's stubborn. He will make sure it stays that way so you don't get hurt when your wishes don't come true and he turns out to be someone else entirely. But maybe he's also doing this to stop himself from wishing on a star. That never works out. They're just pretty flaming balls of gas...there's not much magic in that and that's a matter of fact.  
\----

He lied.

He makes wishes on stars now. On one in particular.

He whispers his wishes to you. The ones that are within your power to grant and the ones that aren't.

You are honest with him in what your capabilities are.

Things are better. Your gravity had been too much. You'd pulled him right up against you, so close that there is no space between you two.

He threads his bony fingers through your hair, relishes in the feel of it getting caught in between the gaps.

You look up at him, wrapped up in his spare black jacket, the white fur framing your face so prettily. It's cold tonight. The stars are out and the snow crests the quaint little neighborhood in a crystalline lattice of magic and cheer.

The others are on the roof of Toriel’s house, drinking hot chocolate and looking for new constellations.

You and he have stolen away for this moment in time.

“There's so many stars tonight. It's kind of suprising. You can go ahead and make a wish, you know? I'm not going to judge you.” You tell him quietly, knowingly.

He shrugs, and smiles at you softly.

(See, you'd never tell him, but you've already made countless wishes on the stars in his eyes.)

He looks up at the sky, contemplating.

“Alright. I wish Siri would stay with me...forever.” He says as he cradles your face, warming his hands in between the heat of your flushed cheeks and the raised hood.

“Y-you...you wasted your wish...I already said I'd stay.” You admonish him, but still lean into his touch. “What star did you wish on?”

He looks down at you, leaning closer and closer until the bone of his nose traces the edge of your jaw and you shudder.

“This one.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, before swallowing up your happy laughter in a warm kiss.

There's no space between you and him, and that's simply a matter of fact.  
\---

 

 


End file.
